Cereal Killers
by yararebird
Summary: The healing powers of Cinnamon Toast Crunch.


The door creaked open heavily, whine echoing throughout the basement. "Hello?" Billie Dean Howard glanced about. But other than dust, she was alone. The house was quiet today. She made her way upstairs.

It was a beautiful house. Always struck her when she visited. The way the stained glass windows changed the colors of the morning sunlight. The dancing swirls of detritus in the air. The beautifully polished wood floors. The rich wallpapers and paint colors. She sighed happily as she walked toward the sitting room, trailing a finger along the wainscotting. "Hello?"

She called again in the kitchen, finding no souls about. It wasn't really necessary to call out, she knew. But it was a habit. The dead deserved to be spoken to as respectfully as the living did. "Constance?" She took a more direct approach. Specificity.

"Pipe down, Billie! You'll wake the whole damn house."

A grin broke. "There you are." She turned to see Constance Langdon leaning in the archway.

"Where the hell else would I be?" Her friend sauntered into the kitchen. "It's good to see ya."

Some people might have thought it strange - hugging a ghost. For Billie, it was a typical happenstance. "You, too." They held each other's elbows after parting, taking one another in fondly. "You look good."

"Thank you, honey." Constance gestured to the table. "You do, too. Clear off some dust and have a seat."

There _was _a lot of dust. Billie brushed some off her fingers. She bit her lip before broaching the next subject. "About that…How is life without a maid?"

Constance turned from the coffee maker, a paper filter in one hand and a plastic scoop in the other. "Do you hear that?" She asked, smiling.

Billie listened closely. "Um. I don't hear anything."

"Exactly!" A low chuckle. "Perfect fucking peace in the house. Finally." She sighed contentment. "And with those witchy-poos gone, too...I'm just tickled pink!"

"Good for you." Billie remembered how upset Constance had been with the witch and warlock in the house. She knew that regurgitating the experience with Michael had been rough.

"I'm afraid there's no cream or sugar."

"My fault." Billie held up her hands. "I know I haven't been to visit lately. So you haven't had your deliveries."

"It has been a while since we've seen you, Billie. I was worried you were mad at me."

Billie shook her head. "Never. I was filming my new series. _American Ghost Stories_." She spread her hands dramatically. "It's been busy for a few weeks. Lots of travel."

"Where've you been travelin'?" Constance asked, watching the coffee maker percolate.

"Oh, let's see. New Orleans. San Francisco. Savannah. Baltimore." She ticked off the cities on her fingers. "Aaand I just left Boston, which was my favorite so far."

"Anything interesting?"

Billie put on a heavy, scary tone. "Briarcliff Manor," she answered darkly.

"Why does that sound familiar?" Constance wiped out two mismatched mugs.

"Oh, you remember that exposé back in the eighties? That crooked mental institution they shut down? With the uh - oh, what was her name? That popular journalist. Um…" She snapped. "Lana Winters!"

"Yes, I remember now." Constance poured coffee from the carafe. "Billie, don't you get enough batshit crazy ghosts when you visit us?"

Billie chuckled, accepting her coffee. "I have to deliver for my fans."

"Well, I'm sure that type of place is just the ticket."

"It was a gold mine. Mm. Good coffee."

Constance smiled, watching her friend. "Sorry I didn't bake you a cake."

"Reminds me." Billie fiddled in her brown leather purse, pulling out a small notebook. "Give me a list. I'll do some shopping for you before I head out for Houston."

"You gonna run down to the Korean for me?"

The medium rolled her eyes. "Can't you get a little more PC at least after death?"

"No."

"You know they're actually Vietnamese, right?"

"Same thing." Constance shrugged.

"Jesus. Never mind." Billie clicked her pen. "Whatcha need?" She was already writing.

"Virginia Slims."

"Got that already. And Crown. What else?"

"Sugar. And half and half. And some of that gross powdered creamer if I have to wait for you to come back for fresh stuff."

"Done." Billie hesitated. "Anything else?"

Constance shrugged. "I can't think of anything else anybody here needs to survive."

A head shake as the younger woman rose. "Alright." She stowed pen and notebook. "I'll be back in a few." A quiver in her senses gave her pause. She looked to the kitchen archway quickly - but there was nothing there.

"What is it?" Constance asked, staring in the same direction.

Billie smirked. "An eavesdropper."

"Oh." A dismissive wave. "Those are everywhere around here. I'll leave the front door open for you."

"Thanks."

In the foyer, another quiver. Billie stopped this time, alone and curious. "Who's there?" She asked softly. "If you don't know me, I'm a friend to all the souls in this house."

"I know you." A gentle male voice.

Billie looked up to the lurker on the stairs and smiled affectionately. "Travis. Long time no see."

He grinned. Still handsome, she thought. "I know." He walked the rest of the way downstairs with hands in jeans pockets. "How've you been?"

"I suspect you know that already. Were you not listening in?"

His sheepish blush was charming. "I guess a little."

"Why didn't you come in and say hi?"

"Well." Travis looked down at his feet. "She's still pretty mad at me."

"Constance, you mean."

"Yeah."

Billie rubbed a muscled arm sympathetically. "Just give her time, honey. She'll eventually get over it."

"She won't even talk to me."

"She's still adjusting."

Travis sat on the bottom step, dejected. "I still love her so much."

Billie's heart warmed. She could feel the pain in this spirit, the sincerity. Travis had always been an open book, but now he was even more transparent to her ESP. She sighed. "Look. I gotta go grab some things from the store. When I get back, maybe...maybe we can all talk together, huh? I can ask her -"

"Would you really do that?" The naked, eager hope in his lovely eyes was disarming.

"I'll try my best. Okay?"

Travis grabbed her hand. "Billie. You're the best psychic friend a ghost can have."

"I know." She patted his head. "You need anything at the store? Other than cigarettes and beer?" She'd anticipated.

Travis laughed. "Nah." She started for the door. "Oh, wait!" He stood, remembering. "I do want something."

"What?" She rifled for her notebook and pen again.

"It's stupid, I guess."

"Nothing's stupid when you're dead, Travis."

"I want some Cinnamon Toast Crunch."

She paused. "The cereal?"

"Yeah. It's the best!" His smile had teeth.

"Bullshit." Their eyes whipped up to a sardonic voice on the stairs.

"Violet!" Billie brightened. "Hi, sweetie!"

"Golden Grahams are superior." The girl offered. Billie wrote in the notebook.

"Actually, Cookie Crisp is where it's at." Tate Langdon appeared suddenly, wrapping his arms around Violet.

"Gross!" Violet chuckled.

Billie wrote again, pleased to feel an air of joy between the two tragic young souls. And very pleased to feel something other than sizzling retribution emanating from Tate.

"Too bad you're all wrong."

Billie whipped, gasping. The energy had accumulated so densely in the room that she hadn't felt another presence come through. "Dr. Harmon!" She held out a hand. "Good to see you again."

Ben took the offered hand, a serious expression on his face. "Raisin Bran."

"Dad. Raisin Bran is disgusting."

"What do you have against two scoops of raisins, young lady?" Ben asked Violet.

"They look like shrivelled cockroaches?" She answered.

"Well, all that other stuff is nothing but sugar."

"We're dead, Doc." Tate argued. "Not like we have to worry about diabetes."

"Um...the important question is could we get some fucking Lucky Charms up in here, please?" Chad Warwick asked from above, leaning over the landing to stare down at the gathered crowd. Billie wrote frantically, acknowledging him with a nod. "I just loooove those hearts, stars and horseshoes."

"Clovers and blue moons!" Tate chimed in.

"Unicorns and rainbows!" Chad sang back. "And tasty red balloons."

Billie rubbed at her temples. Too much energy was getting to her. "I always knew there was a great deal of passionate emotion in this place, but I had no idea so much of it ran toward cereals." She rushed to the door, determined to leave before more breakfast foods were requested. "I'll be back," she promised, closing the front door behind her. "With a lot of damn milk, I guess."

She had to stop at three different grocers. And she had to make three trips to her car to bring in all the supplies. Constance helped her put things away. "Thanks for this, Billie."

"Anytime."

"What the hell is with all this cereal?"

"Everybody wanted cereal."

"This stuff'll rot your teeth out."

"You hardly have to worry about that now, Constance."

"Hm. True. Now where is that damn decanter? I hope those last idiots who moved in here didn't throw it out." Constance made her way to the pantry, nude Lanvin pumps clicking briskly. "You see it anywhere, Billie?"

"I got it." She'd found it behind a newly stocked cereal box above the microwave. Watched as Constance poured a bottle of Canadian whiskey into the crystal orb. "Constance?"

"What?" The blonde was preparing a drink. The advantage to the house being owned by a coven now was that the power would stay on at least. Which meant a steady supply of ice. "You want one?" A raised glass.

"A small one. Constance."

"What, Billie?" A tinge of annoyance as she poured their libations.

"Have you talked to Travis?"

"Who?"

"Don't be a bitch."

"It's in my nature, Billie."

"He loves you."

"He can love his new girlfriend now." Constance sipped her Crown, wincing slightly. "And I don't want to talk about it anymore."

"He wants to talk to you."

"What the fuck did I just say, Billie?" A tinge of annoyance turned to dark irritation.

Billie sipped her own whiskey, quietly frustrated. She hushed, though.

Constance sat to the table. "Sit down," she said. "Don't rush off."

Reluctantly, Billie sat. "I don't understand why he loves you, but -"

"Jesus Christ, do we really have to do this?"

"There needs to be peace in this house, Constance."

"There _is _peace!"

"Not for everyone. Not for Travis."

"He'll have no problem finding a piece somewhere else, I assure you."

"And not for you. Not really."

"Billie. I truly couldn't be more at peace. Moira's gone. My son is speaking to me again. I have Beau and Rose now. I have my house back. What more could I want?"

"It's lonely, Constance."

"I'm far from lonely, trust me."

"That's not the kind of loneliness I mean." Billie reached for her friend's soft hand. "I know you better than you think. And you know I feel things. Things that can't be hidden."

Constance snatched her hand back. "Well, what do you _feel_ now, Billie? Enlighten me as to my own emotions, please." She fumbled with a pack of cigarettes, shaking a little.

"You always wanted what he's offering, you know. True love."

"He _fucked _someone else, Billie. While we were...together." She managed to light a smoke. "Was that true love?"

"That was a mistake." Billie shrugged. "People make them. Don't they, Constance?"

"Don't judge me, Miss Priss!" Constance stabbed her cigarette at Billie. "I was a divorcee!"

"Who _fucked _another woman's husband." Billie reminded gently.

"Oh, no. I made him wait until we were married for that." Constance fiddled with the ashtray, looking down. Embarrassed maybe? "I just blew him a couple of times is all. He did the rest."

"Are we going to get into the semantics of adultery now?"

"Please, no."

"Point is. We all make mistakes. Especially when we're angry. And I suspect you have a proven successful track record of making people angry."

"Are you saying I'm difficult?"

"To the highest degree." Billie lit one of Constance's cigarettes. "And stubborn. And judgmental. And possessive. And jealous. And -"

"How about a compliment sandwich, at least, Billie? Christ! I have some redeeming qualities, don't I?"

"You do." The brunette smiled, leaned back in her seat. "You have so much love to give. So much nurturing. I think it's what you were always meant for."

Constance quieted at that, seeming to process. "I did love all my babies."

"You did." Billie withheld a smile. "And I have to say you always had a killer body."

"Oh, stop now!" But she laughed, blushing. They sighed in unison, letting go of some tension, and Constance finally spoke of her own accord. "I was so hurt," she whispered, staring at her whiskey. "And after Addy died…I just wanted to push everybody away, I guess." Billie nodded, leaned her head on a raised fist. "I took it out on Travis, didn't I? He was always so...convenient to me. You know? A handyman. A babysitter. A punching bag. Not to mention he was an excellent lay." Billie chuckled. Constance considered. "I wasn't entirely fair was I?"

"No. Maybe not."

"_But._ He walked out on me." She looked up, plainly hurt. "If he'd really loved me, when I offered to marry him -"

"Constance. You sprung marriage on a guy who wasn't even old enough to seriously consider a 401K. What did you expect?"

A sniffle. "I guess you're right. Besides, you have to have a steady job to consider a 401K."

Billie reached for her hand again, and Constance grudgingly let her have it. "So maybe you could just talk to him?"

A shrug. "We'll see."

"Constance -"

"I said we'll see! For fuck's sake, Billie. I'm trying to be forgiving."

"I know that's not easy for you."

"You're damn right about that."

"He misses you." Constance finished her whiskey, grinning secretively. "What?" Billie noticed the grin. "What is it?" She prodded.

"I miss him, too. A little." Constance confessed, poking at an ice cube in her glass. "In bed, mostly."

"You're a terrible person."

"But I'm a great ghost!"

Billie shook her head, rising. "I have to go. Early flight tomorrow."

"Thanks for visiting, as always." The two women hugged again.

"Oh!" Billie reached into her purse. "I almost forgot. This."

"What are those?" Constance reached for the devices Billie flourished.

"This -" Billie handed over the smallest gift. "Is an I-pod. It has tons of music on it. See?" She showed Constance how to turn it on. "I'm sure Violet will be familiar. And this -" She set the other gift on the counter. "Is a speaker. Here." She fiddled with the technology, attaching a cable between them. "Here's the charger. It fits both. Now. Watch. And listen." She pressed a button atop the speaker and scrolled through the I-pod. "Perfect."

_Never was a cornflake girl_

_Thought that was a good solution_

_Hanging with the raisin girls_

_She's gone to the other side_

_Givin' us the old heave ho_

_Things are getting kind of gross_

_And I go it's sleepy time_

Laughing, Billie stretched to kiss Constance's very confused cheek. "You're welcome," she whispered. "I'll see you later."

_This is not really, this, a-this_

_This is not really happening_

_You bet your life it is_

_You bet your life it is..._

Constance was studying the I-pod still. "How do I turn this thing off?" She called. But Billie was gone. "Shit." She fiddled with the thing. It didn't turn off, but the song changed. _Not _ for the better.

_You have so many relationships in this life_

_only one or two will last_

_you go through all this pain and strife_

_then you turn your back and they're gone so fast_

_and they're gone so fast_

_so hold on the ones who really care_

_in the end they'll be the only ones there_

_when you get old and start losing your hair_

_can you tell me who will still care_

_can you tell me who will still care_

_Mmmbop, ba duba dop_

_ba du bop, ba duba dop_

_ba du bop, ba duba dop_

"Oh, Hell." She gave up on the I-pod and attacked the speaker, fervently pressing buttons. She succeeded in increasing the volume.

_Plant a seed, plant a flower, plant a rose_

_you can plant any one of those_

_keep planting to find out which one grows_

_it's a secret no one knows_

_it's a secret no one knows_

_In an mmm bop they're gone, in an mmmbop they're not there_

_in an mmmbop they're gone, in an mmmbop they're not there_

_until you lose your hair_

_but you don't care_

"Not exactly what I imagined your taste in music to be, mom." Tate appeared behind her, laughing.

"Help me with the goddamn thing!" Constance thrust the speaker at her son.

He laughed harder. "I don't know how! Vi! What the fuck do you do with this thing?"

Violet reached around him, grabbing the I-pod. "This is great!" She smiled, nuzzled Tate's shoulder. "What else is on here?" She began scrolling, ignoring Constance's over the shoulder examination of the tiny screen.

Tate was pulling down cereal boxes. "Billie is the shit. You want Golden Grahams?"

"Hell yeah, I want Golden Grahams!"

The sound of cereal tinkling into bowls accompanied the next song choice. Constance tried to ignore the noise, pouring another whiskey.

_Brother bought a coconut, he bought it for a dime_

_His sister had another one she paid it for the lime_

_She put the lime in the coconut, she drank 'em bot' up_

_She put the lime in the coconut, she drank 'em bot' up_

_She put the lime in the coconut, she drank 'em bot' up_

_She put the lime in the coconut, she call the doctor, woke 'I'm up_

_And said "doctor, ain't there nothin' I can take?"_

_I said "doctor, to relieve this belly ache"_

_I said "doctor, ain't there nothin' I can take?"_

_I said "doctor, to relieve this belly ache"_

"Don't touch my Raisin Bran." Ben Harmon reached over his daughter's head, pulling down the favored cereal box.

"_No one _is going to eat that cardboard crap." Constance lit a cigarette, leaned on the counter. She'd decided to see exactly where all this activity might go. The afterlife could be so damned _boring_.

"Unbelievably?" Violet grinned around a mouthful of sugared delight. "I'm going to agree with you, Constance."

"The world is coming to an end." Constance deadpanned. "Woah!" She jolted when Tate bumped her hip.

"Dance, mom."

"I will _not_." She dusted her hip as if he'd sullied it.

Ben Harmon picked raisins out of his cereal bowl, eating them as he took over the I-pod. "Hah. Tate, your mama don't dance."

_Your mama don't dance and_

_Your daddy don't rock and roll_

_Your mama don't dance and_

_Your daddy don't rock and roll_

_When evening rolls around_

_And it's time to go to town_

_Where do you go to rock and roll_

"She used to." Tate grinned at Constance, enjoying her good natured irritability. She secretly loved his ribbing. It was a sign that they'd repaired their relationship. Truthfully, he liked it, too. She was a hell of a lot more tolerable dead than she'd ever been alive. Not to mention the fact she'd offed herself to be with him was pretty impressive. He'd never really thought she loved him before…

"I still dance, thank you very much," she insisted.

"Prove it." Suddenly, Ben snagged her hand, spinning her beneath his arm.

_The old folks say that you_

_Gotta end your date by ten_

_If you're out on a date_

_And you bring it home late, it's a sin_

_There just ain't no excuse_

_And you know you're gonna lose_

_You never win, I'll say it again_

"Ah!" Constance squealed, but fell into step with the doctor just the same, even smiling when he pulled her into a full on shag.

Violet picked up Constance's discarded cigarette, smoking it and winking at Tate. "You're right. She _does _dance."

Tate watched the dancers with pleased surprise. "Yeah. With your dad, apparently."

"Wanna be my stepbrother?" She elbowed him.

"Fuckin' _gross_!" Tate tickled her ribs, curling her into his arms. Soon, the teens were dancing, too.

_And it's all because_

_Your mama don't dance and_

_Your daddy don't rock and roll_

_Your mama don't dance and_

_Your daddy don't rock and roll_

_When evening rolls around_

_And it's time to go to town_

_Where do you go to rock and roll_

"Ugh." Chad shielded his eyes with a baleful hand as he opened the refrigerator. "Gag me with the good vibes." He poured Lucky Charms into a large serving bowl. "See ya on the flip side, weird straights." He took his cereal and left the joyous group. No one complained to see him go. The I-pod slid them easily into another track.

_We've been together since way back when_

_Sometimes I never want to see you again_

_But I want you to know, after all these years_

_You're still the one I want whisperin' in my ear_

_You're still the one - I want to talk to in bed_

_Still the one - that turns my head_

_We're still having fun, and you're still the one_

"Father-daughter dance." Ben shifted smoothly in between Violet and Tate.

"Fine then." Tate switched up easily, too, grabbing his mother's elbows. "I suck at this so…"

"Watch my feet." Constance said. "It's an easy step."

_I looked at your face every day_

_But I never saw it 'til I went away_

_When winter came, I just wanted to go (wanted to go)_

_Deep in the desert, I longed for the snow_

_You're still the one - that makes me laugh_

_Still the one - that's my better half_

_We're still having fun, and you're still the one_

It was as close to Heaven as Constance Langdon could ever imagine herself. _Dancing _with her son. Feeling the happiness radiating from him. Smiling with Ben Harmon. Laughing with Violet. She tried to remember all the happiest moments in her life, weighing them against this moment in her afterlife. And perhaps those past moments were simply so long ago they'd lost their power. Or perhaps they'd never even been truly happy moments, anyway. Whatever the case, those moments paled in comparison to this one.

She was lost in laughter when Tate swung her a bit too close to the kitchen entrance. "Woah!" He managed to snag her wrist, steadying her, but not preventing her nearly falling and slamming directly into -

"Travis!" She gasped, wobbled, a hand flying to her chest.

Travis let go her waist as soon as she stepped back. He'd been quick to catch her fall, but just as quick to unhand her. Uncertainty reigned on his smooth features. And suddenly, her features matched his. A moment froze, unfolding like a paper flower.

Tate stepped away gingerly, wincing. Violet curled a hand over his shoulder. She cradled Golden Grahams and Cookie Crisp boxes in her elbow. Gestured to the door with her head. "Come on," she whispered. Tate smiled at her, love in his eyes. One lingering, slightly worried look back at his mother and Travis before the young lovers slinked into the hallway.

"Ahem." Ben Harmon also slinked past. "I uh...just remembered I've got some raisins to tend to. I mean - patients." He snatched the Raisin Bran from the counter. "Oh! Almost forgot!" As an afterthought, he tapped the I-pod before slipping out quickly.

_Don't wish it away_

_Don't look at it like it's forever_

_Between you and me I could honestly say_

_That things can only get better_

"Sorry." Travis muttered unnecessarily. He rubbed the back of his neck, nervous. "I um…"

"Cinnamon Toast Crunch?" Constance asked.

"Yeah." He grinned. Couldn't help it. "You remembered!"

"I remember a lot." His grin fell. She chewed her lip. Sighed. "Well. I think it's in the cabinet." She gestured, stepping aside.

"D'you remember when we used to dance?" He blurted.

_And while I'm away_

_Dust out the demons inside_

_And it won't be long before you and me run_

_To the place in our hearts where we hide_

Her eyes narrowed, considering. "Yes. I remember."

"You were always so good. You taught me, like you were teaching Tate."

"Well, you needed teaching."

"You taught me a lot."

"Travis -"

"I miss you."

"Don't do this." She made to step away, hand up in defense. But Travis snagged her hand smoothly in mid-air. "Stop." But the protest was weak. She let him pull her stiffly against him. "Travis…"

_And I guess that's why they call it the blues_

_Time on my hands could be time spent with you_

_Laughing like children, living like lovers_

_Rolling like thunder under the covers_

_And I guess that's why they call it the blues_

He ignored her face full of resentment. It seemed forced anyway. She huffed when he wrapped his arm around her waist and raised her other hand. They began to sway. "You always felt so good up against me." He spoke into her hair, refusing her refusal. "So real and thick and -"

"You saying I'm fat?"

"You're fantastic." He ignored her goading, too. Sniffed her. "And you always smelled so good, too." She tisked. "I know you hate me now."

"Hmph."

_Just stare into space_

_Picture my face in your hands_

"I was coming back to you. Did you know that?" He asked.

"What?" She couldn't look at him. He was holding her too closely. "What are you talking about?"

"I fucked up, Constance. I know that. That night I was with her. With Hayden? The night she killed me?"

"The night you deserved it because you cheated on me. _Again_."

_Live for each second without hesitation_

_And never forget I'm your man_

"She was pissed because I was going back to you. I was going _home_. To _you._"

"Bullshit."

He stopped dancing. Held her by her shoulders, making her meet his eyes. "I was gonna marry you. Raise a baby with you. It's true. Believe it or not. It's true."

Her eyes were wet. "Well, you didn't make it home, did you?" She pushed his hands from her shoulders and walked away, rubbing her own elbows. "One more heartbreak didn't end me, you know."

"I never wanted to break your heart."

"Want to or not, you did."

"I can never apologize for what I did."

"No, you can't."

"But you could let me try to make it up to you."

_Wait on me girl_

_Cry in the night if it helps_

_But more than ever I simply love you_

_More than I love life itself_

"I don't do second chances, Travis."

"Then let's start over."

She laughed ruefully. "I'm too old for that. Too old for you. And we're dead. Stuck here for eternity. That's enough of a do-over, as far as I'm concerned. And I'll be just fine on my own, thank you very much. So I recommend you -"

"I love you." He stepped in front of her. "I love you so much it hurts. And if I have to hurt for the rest of eternity sharing it with you then that's fine. But I could make you so happy. Constance, please! Didn't I make you happy once before? At least a little? Please, Constance. Just...talk to me for a second. Tell me I didn't make you happy at least once."

_Everybody needs a little time away_

_I heard her say_

_From each other_

_Even lovers need a holiday_

_Far away from each other_

_Hold me now_

_It's hard for me to say I'm sorry_

_I just want you to stay_

_After all that we've been through_

_I will make it up to you_

_I promise to_

_And after all that's been said and done_

_You're just a part of me I can't let go_

She looked away from his earnest face, nostrils flaring. "You served your purpose well enough. You did what boy toys do."

"So it was just about sex."

"Well, what else, Travis?"

_Couldn't stand to be kept away_

_Just for the day_

_From your body_

_Wouldn't want to be swept away_

_Far away_

_From the one that I love_

_Hold me now_

_It is hard for me to say I'm sorry_

_I just want you to know_

_Hold me now_

_I really want to tell you I'm sorry_

_I could never let you go_

He chuckled. "We _made love_, Constance." At her eye roll and groan, he insisted even more loudly, followed her around the kitchen counter. "I'd never felt like that with anyone else. We _talked_, you know? While we fucked, after, before… We were _good_, babe." She leaned on the sink. He stood behind her, not touching her. "I held you like I'd never held anybody. I loved how you'd wrap your legs around me - like you couldn't get close enough. How you'd look right in my eyes. We _laughed_! During sex! That was - that was _crazy_!" He stroked her back gently - like one would pet a frightened cat. "I miss that so much. I miss how I'd wake up against you in the morning and just pull your panties down and…" A sigh against her neck. He was closer to her now. She wasn't pulling away. "You were so sweet in the mornings. So soft." His hands slid beneath her arms, trapping her against the sink. "We had to be so quiet. So we wouldn't wake Addy I would put my hand over your mouth?"

She rolled her head away from his lips. "Goddamn you…"

"I loved how I'd come home late - from some temp job or another. Mad as fuck about some dumb shit, bitching and moaning. And you always knew how to shut me up. Remember?" Boldly, he chased her ear. Kissed it softly. She gave a tiny mew. "Nobody _ever _sucked my dick like you, babe. _And _swallowed? Hell no. You were a fucking wet dream come true."

"That's all _still _just sex, Travis." She managed to bite out, tense and shaking against him. Her fingers flexed on the sink rim. "Nothing more."

"Was it just sex when you would cry against my chest? Huh? When you would cuddle up against me and say 'just hold me?' Or what about that Christmas we sneaked downstairs and put Addy's Santa stuff out together? Then we were so excited to see her open it we couldn't even go back to sleep? Or the time -"

"Shut up!" She finally whirled to face him, pressed her hands to his chest. "Just shut the fuck up, Travis!"

"Why? Because you'll realize you're wrong? And you hate being wrong."

"I'm never wrong!" She shook her head vehemently.

"Right now you are." He pulled her hands from his chest to his lips. "Because I _do _love you. And that won't change. For all eternity."

She felt tears on her cheeks. Hated them. Her fingers stroked his jaw. "I'm so mad at you…"

"You have the right to be."

"I'm not forgiving you."

"I don't expect you to."

She closed her eyes. "I miss you, too," she whispered.

"Constance." He pushed against the resistance in her hands, pushed his lips against hers. Her fingers slid from his jaw around his neck, clawing at his nape. The sensation brought a groan from him. He opened his mouth against hers, beyond pleased when she let her tongue play with his.

Even in death he made her head spin. Constance clung to his shoulders for balance, for some semblance of stability. He'd always made her weak in the knees - always reduced her to a quivering puddle of lust. She'd wondered honestly what this might be like now - as a ghost, worried the physical would be lost to the ephemeral if not lost all together.

But not at all. It was overwhelming - the sensations of his tongue stroking hers, his fingers caressing her curves hungrily, his hardness pressing into her belly and the tightening, tingling tickle that spread from the core of her all the way up her spine to burn her brain and break her resistance. "Travis!" She gasped, pulling away. She needed to think, to calm, to -

"Let's go to bed," he growled, eating her neck.

"Yes!" She hissed. Thinking and calming and anything other than burying this man inside herself evaporated in a shimmering haze of intense desire. They staggered from the kitchen, nearly tripping over each others' feet. Shoes were lost on stairs. For a moment, they had a bit of a tangle on the landing - Travis' belt catching and Constance's zipper sticking. Her hands slipped beneath his shirt. He slammed her against the wall, tearing dark chiffon from her shoulders. "You feel so good, baby!"

"You, too." He whimpered when she struggled with his fly. "Don't! We're almost there. If you do that, I'll fuck you in the hall, I swear."

"I don't care!" She gripped his straining erection through tighty whities.

"Shit." He lifted her. She wrapped him in long legs and he hustled them a few feet further.

It had been her room once - the master bedroom. She'd claimed it again now that she was a permanent resident. It was dim, moonlight flowing blue through the airy curtains. Travis kicked the door closed behind them. Dust swirled, puffed in the air when he dropped her on the bed. Clothes shed quickly after that. Dress flew. Jeans followed. An amalgamation of underwear swirled cotton, lace and satin. They wrecked shop.

"You're still the most beautiful woman I've ever seen." He was biting, licking, sucking his way down the middle of her body.

"I never believed you when you said that!" She arched beneath his wandering hands.

"Believe me now?"

"Ssss!" She hissed when his mouth found its ultimate destination - between her thighs. "Fuck, honey, yes!"

Travis moaned in her cunt. "I missed the taste of you," he mumbled.

"Ssshhh." She shoved his head into her want. "Don't talk with your mouth full. It's rude." He worked her through moans, gasps, and outright shouts of pleasure until she curled fingers in his sweaty curls and pulled. "Get on your back."

"Yes, ma'am." They savored the moment: his manhood sliding slick and thick into her womanhood. They'd always savored that moment. It was intrinsic. And death only served to make it moreso. She rode him very slowly, almost painfully slowly, letting her fingers light delight in her own body. Travis watched, captivated, before emulating her explorations. "Take your hair down, Constance." He cupped a breast, thumb swirling her clit while her curls flicked free one by one with each pin she tossed. "Gorgeous…"

"Keep doing that, baby." Her voice went thready and deep. She pressed his hand closer to her mons and picked up her pace, knees tensing alongside his thighs. "That's. Fucking. Perfect." Each word was punctuated by a bounce, an undulation. "I'm close."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah." A hitch of breath. "Oh, shit."

"I feel that." He gripped her hips harder. "Jesus, you're tight."

"Mmm!" She mewled, falling over him on a bracing arm. "God! Yes, that's -" Her throat closed on a silent scream.

Travis gripped her ass cheeks while she milked him, enjoying the feel of her teeth scraping his neck and the animal growls against his pulse. "Hold on, babe." He flipped her seamlessly, folded her knees high over his elbows to pound her properly. "Sorry," he whispered.

"No, you're not." Constance scraped her nails up his back, remembering the tricks that drove him crazy. "Fuck the hell out of me, darlin'."

"You're the devil," he groaned, hips snapping faster.

"You love it."

"I love you." He buried his face in her curls, nipping at her ear as he talked out of his head. "I love you so much, Constance. I missed you so much. I missed this. I missed us."

Her hand was hard on his jaw, pushing him back to look at her. "Promise me you'll never hurt me again."

"I'll never hurt you again!" His voice strained.

"Promise me!" She insisted, legs raising to wrap him.

"I - I - Oh, fuck, I'm gonna come, Constance!"

Her legs gripped him so hard so suddenly he ground to a halt. "I said fucking promise me," she growled.

"I promise!" He grabbed her head in both hands, pulling her taut against him. "I promise! I love you! I'll never hurt you again! You own my soul, Constance Langdon!"

"Yeah?" Her legs loosened, allowing him to resume his rampant thrusting. But her grin was triumphant in a shaft of moonlight. "So give it to me," she hissed darkly, one hand creeping down his slick back. "Now." A firm finger penetrated his puckered resistance and she chuckled.

"What are you - Ugh!" His eyes rolled in their sockets, jaw slack in her lingering tender caress. His guttural groan was music to her ears and he unloaded soul into her thirsty body, whimpering helplessly.

"Sssh, shh, sh. Good boy, Travis." Constance soothed him, finger massage slacking in his ass. "That's it, baby." She kissed him sweetly, tasting sweat from his temples. "So good."

He collapsed on her, sticky and lax. "Ooohhhh, fuck." He groaned, arms wrapping her. "That was...that was -"

"Perfect," she finished his sentence, wiping her hand discreetly on the duvet. A pat on his muscular butt. "You handled that well."

"Death gave you some pretty interesting ideas." He mumbled into her shoulder.

"Oh, we're just getting started." She sighed, rolling them to face each other. "Now that I own your soul and all."

Travis smiled at her, eyelids drooping. "You always owned my soul. You were the best thing that ever happened to me."

"Was I better than Cinnamon Toast Crunch?" She bit her lip.

He blinked a few times, playfully considering. "I _guess_ so."

"Oh, you _guess_ so?" She wriggled against him, pressing him to his back. "Let's just see if I can solidify your opinion with my own personal brand of sugar…" She inched down his body, kissing and nipping with purpose.

"Oh, Constance." He tangled his fingers in her messy curls. "You give the best sugar, babe."

The moonlight glinted off dust motes, clinging to secrets in the lovers' chamber. Downstairs, the house lived on.

_We get it almost every night_

_When that moon is big and bright_

_It's a supernatural delight_

_Everybody's dancin' in the moonlight_

_Everybody here is out of sight_

_They don't bark, and they don't bite_

_They keep things loose, they keep 'em tight_

_Everybody was dancin' in the moonlight_

Tate and Violet frowned at the kitchen counter. "We're out of milk," Violet complained.

"Yeah." Kit shook a cereal box. "And we're out of Cookie Crisp."

She shrugged. "There's a whole box of Cinnamon Toast Crunch up there."

"I think that's Travis' box." But there was temptation on Tate's face.

"I don't think he'll miss it."

"I'm trying _real_ hard not to think about that."

"About what? Your mom getting plowed right now by a dude your age?"

Sudden pain skewered his handsome face. "Why do I even _like _you?"

Violet laughed, taking his hands. "Because I'm the only thing you need."

They danced. High in the corner of the kitchen window, the moon watched.

_Dancin' in the moonlight_

_Everybody's feelin' warm and bright_

_It's such a fine and natural sight_

_Everybody's dancin' in the moonlight_

_We like our fun and we never fight_

_You can't dance and stay uptight_

_It's a supernatural delight_

_Everybody was dancin' in the moonlight_

_**Music featured by Tori Amos, Hanson, Nilsson, Loggins and Messina, Orleans, Elton John, and Chicago. Thanks for reading!**_


End file.
